


Birthday Fic for Friend!!

by taylor_tut



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Exhaustion, Gen, Post-Magic Reveal, Sick Character, Sick Merlin (Merlin), Sickfic, Whump, merlin whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 19:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20345317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A short little fic for a friend on Tumblr! As the Court Sorcerer, Merlin is overworking himself and Lancelot wants to help.





	Birthday Fic for Friend!!

Since becoming the Court Sorcerer, Merlin had bee using his magic more often than ever before, and that was saying something. 

He'd been used to going long stretches of time without being able to cast a spell larger than heating up water or scrubbing armor, but ever since Arthur had decided that he accepted Merlin's magic and appointed him a position worthy of his power and skill, he rarely went more than a few hours without casting at least a small spell. 

People came from all over the kingdom for favors ranging from removing stubborn stains from old family garments to small miracles of healing. Merlin had rules, of course—ones he'd put in place in order to keep from messing with the natural order of things—but because he was soft at heart, he broke them when he felt the need to. When a mother came to him with her third and final baby ill with the plague that had taken her other two, when a child came to him with an injured cat that wouldn't otherwise make it through the night: he couldn't just turn them away and still sleep at night. 

In fact, the majority of the headache draughts that he'd taken when he was Arthur's servant had been used to combat magic backup, but now, most of them were to combat magical exhaustion. Personally, he was fulfilled in ways that he'd never thought possible, and that made it all worth it—but it didn't make it easier on his body. 

On days when he was this exhausted, Merlin tended to hide from people who might tell him to stop and rest. He was busy, after all, and didn't have time for that. He'd hole up in his chambers and act like he was in a rush if any of his friends came by.

That's precisely why, on days like this when Lancelot had barely seen more of Merlin than the blur of his body as he ran from place to place all week, Lancelot made it his top priority to check in on him.

He'd been anticipating finding Merlin in a state, but even with that in mind, he was shocked when he saw him sitting at the table slumped over one arm, reading a book and fighting to keep his eyes open. On the ground in front of him were several dirt-filled flower pots, each with a different root vegetable sitting on top of it. Water had been splashed and spilled on the ground, too, and lazily mopped at. 

“Merlin?” he called tentatively, knowing better than to startle the most powerful warlock in the world. Merlin, seemingly less asleep than he looked, snapped to attention. 

“Lancelot,” he greeted, the cheer heavily undercut by exhaustion. “What can I do for you?”

Lancelot frowned. “I'm not in need of anything,” he replied. “But you look like you could use a hand.” Predictably, Merlin shook his head. 

“That's kind of you,” he said, “but I've got it handled.” Lancelot’s stance widened. 

“Do you,” he mused, sounding firmly skeptical. “Come on, Merlin; you've been at this for weeks. I know you're trying to prove yourself here, but you're going to run yourself ragged. You already look halfway there.” 

It was more than just proving himself, Lancelot knew--it was about redeeming magic as a whole. Merlin had a great hand in reshaping the public consciousness about sorcery in general, and though that was a great honor, it was also a lot of responsibility for one young man. Already sensitive to missing things up, having the added fear of putting every magic user back on trial, no matter how many times Arthur swore to him it would never happen, was a big burden. 

It wasn't that he didn't understand; he did. He just wished that Merlin would take it a little easier. 

“I'm just worried about you. You have a tendency to neglect your own needs for the wants of others.”

Merlin shook his head, blinking dizzily after doing so. 

“I've just come so close to making this spell work,” he nearly whined. “I'm taking a break as soon as I can get these plants growing in this used soil. Don't you think that will be great for the farmers?”

“It will,” Lancelot had to admit. “But you know, you might be able to focus a little better with some food in your stomach and a good night's sleep behind you.” 

Merlin muttered something under his breath about how he'd have a lie-down soon and how Lancelot could be such a mother hen. A little rude, but ultimately worth it, so long as it got Merlin to rest.

Which, of course, it didn't. Lancelot would learn that three days later when he rounded a corner of the castle to find Merlin, collapsed and bleeding from the forehead, at the bottom of a flight of stairs. He dropped to his knees so fast that even in twilight consciousness, Merlin flinched at the sound of the metal hitting the cobblestone. 

“Merlin, can you hear me?” he demanded, earning only a groan in reply. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Gods, Merlin; are you badly injured? What hurts?”

Merlin groaned again. “My head, mostly. I'm not hurt.”

Lancelot rolled his eyes. “You could have been killed; a fall like that. What happened?”

As he sat Merlin up to examine him, he noticed the little flinch that he tried to hide and the way that his eyes struggled to focus.

“Got dizzy,” he admitted sheepishly. “I slipped from the top.” Upon seeing the look on Lancelot's face, he forced a trembling smile through the pain in his head. “I'm fine, really.”

“Merlin, you're the last person I trust to use that word truthfully.” 

Merlin looked comically aghast. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“Perhaps when you said that you were going to take it easy a few days ago? Or all the times you've been on the brink of death and sworn you were merely drunk? Or when you say that you've done nothing but cower in battle when you've really--”

“Alright,” Merlin curtailed, “so I'm not always the most truthful about that sort of thing. I'm telling you, this time, I'm okay.”

Lancelot rubbed his hand over his face, pondering how perhaps next time, Merlin wouldn't be able to get so lucky.

“Well, I'm taking you to Gaius, anyway,” he announced in a tone that invited no arguments. “He’ll have a better lecture for you than I can muster.”

Despite his reluctance, Merlin leaned on Lancelot the whole way to Gaius’ chambers, proving without saying that he really did need the support. Lancelot was glad to be the one to give it to him.


End file.
